


Not So Alone

by Burdenedwithgloriousporpoise



Series: Marlowe Fics [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-23 15:27:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9663551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Burdenedwithgloriousporpoise/pseuds/Burdenedwithgloriousporpoise
Summary: It wasn't the voices of pain, fear, or doubt that kept her awake that night. It was their absence. When a sleepless night sends Annie sneaking to the gym past curfew for relief, she finds she isn't the first one there.





	

Hitch snored softly in the bunk above and the darkness was complete. It wasn't an overabundance of thoughts that kept Annie awake. She'd long ago learned to suppress them; focus on one thing and let everything else fall to the side, single-minded and tranquil. It was the knowledge of their absence that haunted her now. The awareness of something missing. She'd done it for so long that she feared when it was time--when that 'one thing' was achieved, when she could finally pull down the walls and address the deluge of crushed, hidden thoughts and feelings--she wouldn't even know how. Maybe they'd be pressed so far into her subconscious that they'd no longer be retrievable as distinct thoughts, had stitched themselves into the tapestry of her consciousness as inextricable pain and disappointment.

But for now...quiet. A quiet that roared, a vast space that crushed. She wouldn't think about it. She'd been taught from youth not to do that. She would think through her body. Think through her legs. Think through the strike of bone on leather, the vibration radiating through her shin and a surge of power, drip of sweat and throb of aching limbs. Quietly she dressed and stole from the room. Curfew was of no consequence. With the screaming emptiness in her head, exercise would be a relief and detainment a welcome distraction. It would be more difficult to fulfill her mission if she was imprisoned, but neither would she succeed if she failed due to madness.

Down the stairs, she opened the door. A light glimmered at the other end of the gym. She closed the door behind her soundlessly.

Blows connecting with a sand-filled sack hanging from the ceiling. Another MP, out past curfew? She approached.

It was Marlowe. He wore shorts and a sleeveless undershirt, damp skin glistening bronze in the lantern light. The punching bag shuddered with each strike. Sweat burst in a cloud between foot and surface with each violent connection.

It was odd for someone so uptight about the rules to be breaking curfew like this...and he wasn't making up lost time, either. He'd already trained today. The dark set of his face might have been focus, but context spoke to something more. He was angry. The intensity of the attack increased until finally with a shout he struck the swinging bag to a halt. He stopped, panting. He had an odd slouch as if weighed down. His chest expanded with a deep breath and he sighed, rolled his shoulders back and stood straight.

Almost of their own accord her feet moved her closer.

He took a small towel from atop a water bottle on the floor and wiped his face.

"Frustrated?"

He whirled. "Annie." After a second he gave a short laugh and took a dry tone. "What gave you that impression?"

Seconds ticked by. "Hmh." Her lips barely twitched into a smile. She walked past him and rolled a standup bag from beside the wall. She set it up a short distance away and when she straightened, he was within conversational distance. "What about you?" he asked.

Another pause. She could reply, or she could ignore...he was used to the latter, as were all of them. She adopted her stance and kicked the bag. Shock of energy through her leg, rattling up her spine to buzz through her skull. She kicked again, and again--stopped. He was still standing, watching. Tenacious.  
It was surprising to feel a tinge not of annoyance, but of acceptance. "Frustrated," she said.

"Hm." He walked back to his own equipment.

She had to give him credit. He pressed enough to be persuasive, but knew when to back off respectfully.

The sound of training resumed from his direction. In another situation, she and Marlowe might have been friends. He seemed both passionate and reasonable, committed to his ideals yet able to examine them with an open mind. He clung to principle rather than rules, and if he found the rules didn't fit that standard he was able to change them. He could be irritating, but seemed to have both the capability and desire to adapt. Given time he would be a capable commander.

A pang. Time was not the giving sort these days.

She spoke without looking at him, didn't know what had possessed her to say anything at all. "You're taking advantage of the system, you know. If things ran as you'd like we wouldn't be able to slip through the cracks like this." Perhaps it was the familiarity of the setting. 

"True."

It was odd that she didn't feel the normal irritation of intrusion. It was more of a comfortable acknowledgement. 

He exhaled and fiddled with the wrappings on his hands. Half-shrugged. "Of course if everyone broke the rules there would be anarchy, but...here I am anyway, I suppose."

"What puts you above your own rules?" A kick.

He shook his head. "I don't know."

"Hmph. No. You have an idea and you don't want to say it, because you don't know how to do so without sounding like a tyrant. Is that it?"

He chuckled softly, painfully. "Astute."

"Some people are made for rules, others to be rulers. Is that what you think?"

He put a hand on the back of his neck. "It...that's what I see. Now whether or not I'm seeing it correctly is something I'm still looking in to--"

"It's true." _Thud_ , went her shin against the bag. "But that doesn't make those who follow any less valuable." A surprising stir of emotion from deep inside.

He nodded. "Absolutely. The strength of a leader is for the strengthening of their people. If all the world were leaders nothing would get done, and a leader without followers is nothing. At the same time leaderless followers will generate leaders to follow." He shrugged. "Those are my thoughts."

"Not the thoughts that brought you here."

His lip quirked in disapproval, eyes staring past her. "No, they weren't."

Silence. He glanced at her, seemingly curious. After a moment he blinked and continued. "I'm...frustrated. Same as usual. I don't want to echo myself again and again but--it's hard." He shook his head. "I don't want to dump this on you--"

"No. Talk." The words surprised her, but she decided she wouldn't have taken them back if she could.

"Heh." A pause. "I know my goals are right. But when all I'm hearing day in and day out is a jeering ode to my naive, pretentious idealism...it's easy to doubt. I'm alone in a crowd. I'm mocked, not shunned--parodied rather than stifled." His eyes narrowed slightly, a calculating look rather than a hostile one. "What about you? What do you think of me?"

For a flicker of an instant he looked vulnerable; fear of her verdict, residual pain. Tired, too. The lantern only heightened the dark circles beneath his eyes. He was worn, sans the optimism of new opportunity and dreading that his effort would be wasted, bombarded by the constant nagging that they were right, fear that flaws in his character blocked out his message. Then the neutral facade was back in place.

"I think you have the potential to be a leader," she said, and was surprised again to find she believed those words as strongly as she believed in her own mission.

He seemed as dumbfounded by her sincerity as she was. "Thank you."

She nodded and returned to her kicks, and he to his.

In only a few days her mission would send her tearing through this city as a monster. Perhaps he would die. Perhaps by her hand. She clenched her jaw and kicked harder, sweat rolling down her temple and she forced away the thought. Down, down into the bulging vault with all the others.

Right here, right now--that was not the case. In this refuge, her island of humanity, she didn't need to think about the future or about what she would become. It was enough to relish the present. Now they were partners. Were she to entertain a dream, perhaps she could say friends. In this time alone, in this intimate space, that was all she needed to consider.


End file.
